From the Ritz to the Rubble
by everythingchanges
Summary: 2. When a white light fills the TARDIS, the Doctor and Tristan end up in France 1857 as long awaited guests of the Étrange family, but what do they want with the two time traveling companions? Reading 'Sleeping with Giants' is not neccessary but prefered.
1. Chapter 1

Tristan's eyes fluttered open but they closed instantly when the first thing she saw was the flickering flame of a candle.

Once her eyes were adjusted, she peeled her cheek off the tiled floor and lifted herself up by her sore wrists. She placed one hand on her waist and felt lace. Obviously confused she quickly looked down, she was wearing that dress she saw in the TARDIS on their last journey: the light blue and gold dress that looked like it had at least three petticoats.

That's when he called her back to the control room, but where was he now? And how did she get here?

"Miss," a blond man wearing unusually high waisted pants and a coat with long tails ran up to her and kneeled down, "where have you been? Your father Sir Doctor has been looking for you."

"My father, Sir _Doctor_?"

"Yes miss," the man looked concerned, "are you alright?"

"Um, yeah," She looked around the room, "what day is it today?"

"Well miss, it is February 18th, 1857."

"What?"

"It is February 18th, 1857. Are you sure you are alright?"

"Let me get this straight," She finally stood up, "It is February 18th, 1857, and my father is _Sir _Doctor."

"Um, yes Miss." He started to look incredibly nervous, "Oh no, your father said you would throw a tantrum…"

"Then you take me to him. _Now_."

* * *

The Doctor was sitting on a rather uncomfortable armchair wearing rather uncomfortable pants that were supposed to be popular in the 1800s when the blond man walked in, his dark-haired time traveling companion behind him. 

"Sir," the blond man kneeled before the Doctor, "I found your daughter lying on the floor of the study."

"Thank you," the Doctor stood up, "you may go now."

The blond man quickly scuttled out of the room, leaving only Tristan and the Doctor staring at each other. The look on her face was of the most maximum amount of confusion anyone could ever experience and the look on his was motionless, but the thoughts in his head were swimming around and if they were visible, they would be pouring out of his eyes. She broke the connection to close the door and once she turned around she took a deep breath.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" She screamed and for a second he thought she was trying to channel Donna Noble, "I woke up with my face plastered to the floor and I'm wearing something totally different from when we left Fossilius! And…you're apparently my _father_? How did we even get here?"

Then she remembered.

The two of them had just put her things away after they had established that she was in fact, staying. He was sitting on the chair with his legs propped up against the console, talking about the pros and cons of traveling to the future, and the same for traveling to the past and to other planets across the universe. He would look back at her every few minutes and he thought that the smile on her face was there because his jokes were incredibly humorous.

She was standing and leaning against the rail and looking around the interior of the TARDIS and he was oblivious to the fact that she obviously wasn't listening even though the look on her face was as if she was in another world, and her eyes were scanning across the place as if she was looking at someone else walking around, trying to live vicariously through another person's experiences.

Then it was as if time froze and a bright white light filled the ship's insides. She stood up straight and looked at him with wide eyes. They tried to run towards each other with their arms out, ready to hold on, but it was too late. The light became more and more intense and it felt as if her feet were being pulled back.

"Matter transmission... a transmat beam!" He said, snapping her back to reality, "It was most defiantly a transmat beam."

"So…someone shot a transmat beam at us?" She sat down.

"Yes, well," he contemplated, walking back and forth in front of her, "probably by accident. The transmat bream shot us and teleported us here. There must be something strange going on here; no regular transmat beam is able to penetrate the TARDIS. "

"Yeah." She said, her facial expression never changing.

He sighed, it was getting harder and harder to impress this girl.

"So, just like last time huh?" She said quietly to herself.

"What was that?" His head shot in her direction, "I don't know about you, but the last time I was shot by a transmat beam was when-- "

"Anyway!" She forced out three chuckles, "Let's go see what's going on," She stood up and opened the door, "you have no idea how hard it is to walk in one of these. The petticoats keep getting in the way of my knees."

* * *

The dining room was filled with men and woman sitting around a long – very long rectangle wooden table. The lights were dim and so was the conversation, which was kept to a low whisper. 

Tristan and the Doctor stopped at the doorway.

"I guess this is the place to be." She whispered.

"Ah! Sir Doctor! Young Tristan!" the blond man came up to them again nervously and kneeled, "Please, do come in and take a seat. The Étrangers have been waiting for you two all evening!"

"Um, sorry to be rude," the Doctor said, "but who are you?"

The blond man laughed out loud and stood up, "Sir, my name is Robert and I live here and serve the Étrangers."

"Are we in France?" Tristan asked uncontrollably.

"Oh yes!" Robert smiled, "I suppose your father didn't tell you that everyone was invited here to stay until the royal family of Britain comes to visit at the end of the week. My lord, Mr. Étranger, believes that in 40 years time our two countries will be allies!"

"Yeah," Tristan mumbled just so she and the Doctor could hear, "just in time for one of the greatest wars in history."

The Doctor snorted, "Erm, well, I suppose we should be sitting down by now then. Lovely to chat with you Robert."

"Thank you sir." Robert kneeled again and tripped a woman that was walking behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

"I love grapes," Tristan confessed at the table, popping the twentieth one into her mouth, "fruit leathers? I love them in grape. Grape juice, grape jelly, grape gummies—"

"I like bananas," The Doctor looked around, "shame they don't exist here yet."

The room fell silent as one man, one woman, one little girl, and one little boy walked into the dining room. Tristan assumed the two adults were the parents and the kids were their children.

Robert scuttled in front of the family in his, what looked like so far, a permanently nervous state and said in a loud voice, "Mr. Clive Étrange, Mrs. Linda Étrange, Mr. Charlie Étrange, and Miss Emily Étrange." He soon scuttled out.

The two adults looked quite young – 38 years old at least. Clive had short brown hair and fair skin. His cheekbones weren't too high and his nose wasn't too big, too small, or too pointed. His eyes were a mix of blue, green, and gray, which was something that set him apart from everyone else in the room. In fact, everything about him was unique besides the clothes he was wearing, which looked like every other male's outfit: a large black coat, a top hat, a white shirt, matching trousers, and shiny leather shoes.

Linda was extraordinarily beautiful. Her skin was also fair and her facial features were perfect. She had long blond hair that fell in waves down her shoulders and her back and her eyes were also that unique mix of blue, green, and gray. Her green and blue dress that was slim at the top and large fit her magnificent body. It was as if she never gave birth to two children.

The brother and sister looked like mini versions of their parents. There skin was fair as well, their faces were picturesque, and they too had the same shades in their eyes. Emily had shoulder length blond hair that fell in tight ringlets. She was wearing a cute little pink dress that had lace and ruffles in all the right places. Little Charlie had short, neatly trimmed, brown hair and he was wearing a sharp little suit with a top hat as well.

The four of them smiled at the same time and revealed their perfect white teeth.

"Well they look like creepers." Tristan whispered and popped another grape in her mouth.

"My friends," the man smiled and reached his arms out, "do not stop on our account! Please continue!"

At that very moment, the low whisper started up again and Tristan took another bunch of grapes. She turned her head to the family and noticed that as they all sat down, Clive was staring straight and her and the Doctor.

"Is it just me or is he totally staring at us?" She whispered.

"Um, yes, definitely," the Doctor replied, "TARDIS?"

"TARDIS." She nodded and they both stood up and left the room.

"I parked the TARDIS in our room," He opened the two large doors, "shown to me by our new friend Robert."

Tristan stopped on the spot and gasped. It was absolutely beautiful. The walls were pure white with gold accents and the floor was lined with dusty blue and cream tiles in a checkerboard pattern. There were two queen sized four-poster beds on the right side of the room draped with sheer white curtains and one white bedside table in between the two. There was a large window in the front of the room with thick gold curtains that masked the night. She looked to the left and saw one of the most wanted things by all women in the universe: two doors that looked like they led to a walk-in closet.

She looked over at her Time Lord companion, who was sitting at the edge of the bed that was closest to the window, bouncing up and down.

Then she looked back at the doors, ran to them, and ripped them open. She expected to see racks and racks of beautiful dresses, but it was empty. Except for the large blue police box sitting in the middle of the closet.

She groaned then she sharply turned around to face him, "Wait, _you_ parked the TARDIS here?"

"Well, yes," He replied, "I woke up next to the TARDIS, spinning I may add, but I was next to it."

"That is completely unfair!" She placed her hands on her hips.

"Hello!" He waved his arms around, "We're in France 1857 because someone shot a transmat beam at us, meaning they _wanted _us here for something that I have a bad feeling about, and you're complaining about _how _you got here?" He looked at her but she just turned around. He sighed, "Go inside the TARDIS and get some pajamas. Time for bed, it's getting late."

And surprisingly, she followed his orders.

* * *

The Doctor had always been a light sleeper. Why not? After all, he is a Time Lord. 

He was just lying there in bed with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed, half asleep and half awake like a watchdog. Then he turned to his side and slipped his arms under the pillow to support his head and he thought a little deeper. The only times he was really able to sleep was when the Time Lords and Gallifrey were still around, and when he was with _her_. You know, _her_.

All his thoughts were cut off when he heard rustling.

'_Probably just Tristan rolling around in her bed_.' He thought.

That thought was totally erased when he heard quiet beeps. He opened his eyes just a little bit, so that if the intruder looked at him, he still looked like he was asleep. The first thing he looked at was Tristan, her body was facing him and her arms were under the pillow just like him. Then he looked up and right behind her, sitting on the bed, was Clive Étrange.

Clive was staring intently at the tiny square machine in his hands that was filled with green lights. His fingers flew over tiny buttons like he was trying to fix it. He smiled when the problem was solved and his head turned slowly towards Tristan. His eyes were so fixed on the device, if poultry flew in through the window, he wouldn't have noticed a thing.

The Doctor panicked and moved his hand quickly but quietly to the bedside table drawer where he had placed his sonic screwdriver but when he looked down, he noticed that the drawer was already open. His eyes flew to Tristan. She had the sonic screwdriver in her left and pulled the top with the other. The light started to glow and she whipped around to face Clive.

"Next time you try to use that thing on me," she said smoothly as she pressed the sonic against Clive's forehead, hoping to leave a circular mark, "try to make sure the beeping noises aren't right beside my ear."

Clive's eyes were wide and he said nothing, for Tristan was still pointing the sonic at his face. He shoved the machine back inside his pocket quickly, still looking at her, and slowly stood up with his hands in the air. She waved the sonic towards the door, signaling for him to leave immediately, and so he did.

The door creaked slowly and shut.

Tristan turned her head from the door and to the Doctor, "I _told_ you he was a creeper! What was that machine he was holding?"

"Well from what I saw," he sat up, "that was a Brainwave Synthesis Machine. Basically, it's a mind control device made by the Brainwave Synthesis Research Group oh I don't know… 675 years from now?"

"You mean, 675 years from now, some crazy group of scientists are going to make a machine that controls other people's minds? For what?"

"Ah, we'll never know," he responded, "Even before they came out, they were all stolen from their offices and factories. I guess we know who took them now." He exhaled a shaky breath, "those are one of the most dangerous pieces of alien tech in history."

"You mean to say that all throughout history, aliens from other planets have built huge spaceships and laser beams and weapons of mass destruction, but one of the most dangerous things in _all_ of history is a mind control machine?"

"Oh yes…because once you start messing with another being's mind, everything suddenly gets extremely ugly."

The sun finally started to rise.


	3. Chapter 3

"…And I feel that once the royal family arrives, we will all become the best of friends. All of us, the best of friends! You never know, maybe one day, we'll be … helping them reign all of Britain." Clive finished his 30-minute speech at breakfast.

Everyone looked at him in admiration. Every lord, every lady, every child, every servant, every man and woman looked at him with a smile and a gleam in their eyes. Well, except for, you know, the two people in the room who flew around time and space and were rudely awoken that morning by a broken Brainwave Synthesis Machine.

They both covered their mouths and yawned. The Doctor quickly took a pen out of his pocket, which thank goodness nobody saw during the speech because they used quills at the time, and put two strikes on the palm of Tristan's hand.

_Yawn Count: _

_Tristan: IIII IIII IIII IIII_

_Doctor: II_

"I can't believe you listened to all that rubbish," She whispered, "I was literally bored to tears. Literally! When I yawned, tears blurred my vision!"

"I wanted to see if he would, you know, foreshadow anything." He shrugged.

"Well he obviously didn't. Hello, I'm Clive, I just want to make connections with the rich and famous, not that I'm not one of those already." She mocked in a low voice that was supposed to sound manly.

He nudged her and they both turned their heads to the Étranges. All four of them were staring straight at them.

"You don't think they heard me did you?" She mumbled.

"I don't think so," he answered, still looking at them, "I think they were too busy staring at us." He looked around at the rest of the people in the room, everyone was in their own worlds eating, talking, and having a good time.

Absolutely nobody noticed the family's strange behaviour.

"Excuse me!"

They both turned around, it was Robert. He was standing, well kneeling now, behind their chairs, "I apologize for the interruption my fair lady, but it would be most kind of you to allow me to speak with your father in private in the hallway just outside."

"My who?" She was confused for a second, "where?"

"That would be me." The Doctor stood up and followed Robert out of the room.

* * *

"Erm, Sir Doctor," Robert fiddled with his fingers, "Mr. Étrange would be most pleased if you and your daughter would sit beside them during the feast tonight." He was obviously nervous, as usual.

"Yes, sure, love to," the Doctor said quickly but surely, "I was just wondering Robert…why are you so…jumpy all the time? Was it something the Étranges did to you? You can tell me anything, I'm here to help."

"Oh no, no, no Sir Doctor," Robert laughed nervously and put his hands up, "the Étranges have been very kind to me and my family. It's just, Mr. Étrange has spoken so greatly of you sir, I get nervous around men of such high class."

"They know me?" the Doctor was definitely interested now, "They…they…oh!" He pumped his right fist into the air and ran back into the kitchen, leaving Robert in the hall.

"Must be an English thing." Robert mumbled to himself.

The Doctor returned to the dining room and sat beside Tristan who was in a conversation with a few women on marrying their five daughters to men of the militia.

"Oh Sir Doctor," one of the ladies laughed, wiping tears from her eyes, "your daughter is absolutely charming. Have you found a husband for her yet?"

"_No_," he answered subconsciously, as if he were her real father, "_that_ will not be happening in the near future. Absolutely not."

"A woman of twenty who isn't married yet? Atrocious." Another woman commented.

Another woman chimed in, "you should let her meet the men of the militia. They are absolute gentlemen!"

"She will not be married for she has already chosen a man." The Doctor made up on the spot, sighing and making a face as if he had just made the most stupid comment of all time.

All the ladies squealed and clapped their hands, "Who is it?" they all asked together.

"Uh," Tristan looked at the Doctor for some help. "It is—"

"Captain…Jack Harkness." He looked at the ladies, "Yes, Captain Jack Harkness. He is a captain, well more or less, and a man," he turned to Tristan, "come with me, I need to talk to you." He pulled her out of the room.

She almost tripped.

* * *

"I just found something out while I was talking with Robert."

They were back inside the TARDIS. He was leaning against the console and she was sitting in a chair.

"The Étranges, they were expecting us here," he continued, "so they are definitely the ones who shot the transmat beam at us. They must need us for something."

"Yeah," She said, "I mean, they were kind of staring at us the entire time we've been here. And they have a piece of alien technology. But…are they aliens? I mean, they don't look like aliens."

"Well, do I look like an alien?"

"Good point," she sighed, "you know, now that I think about it…their eyes!"

"What about their eyes?"

"Have you ever seen anyone else in the universe with eyes like theirs?"

"Well no," he said, but thought a little bit more, "Wait! I have! Oh my—"

* * *

"Where have they gone now?" Linda whispered in her husband's ear, "they keep running off."

"Don't worry," Clive smiled, "I've already asked Robert to tell the Doctor to sit with us during dinner. Right now, we can relax. I will inform the Doctor of our plans later tonight."

The family was still sitting in the dining room watching their visitors exit one by one.

"Who's the human?" She said louder once everyone had cleared the room, "She seems like the type of person who could interfere."

"She is a brave one. The companion," he walked over to the window to admire the scenery, "I could see everything when I looked at her, but when she looked me in the eyes I felt as if I was burning, like my body would burst into flames in an instant. She may only be a human now, and a _very_ _special_ human at that, but in the future…"

He shuddered.

* * *

"So there was this planet right," The Doctor started, "It was similar to Earth. It had water and land, well, more land than water, there was only one ocean, but there were tons of species of aliens living together on one planet, but in different sections of it like how Earth has countries with different races. In the middle of the one ocean, there was a tiny, tiny island and about 100,000 Hypnotics lived there, only Hypnotics."

"So those people are called Hypnotics? Do they…hypnotize others or something?"

"That is exactly it. They're one of the few in the whole universe who can control someone without persuasion. They're equipped with the most amazing abilities. Just by staring at you, they can flip through your future, present, and past through their head like a book."

"Do you think they were…seeing our futures back there?"

"I don't know," he exhaled, "But really, if traveling through time is your life, there really isn't a past or future or even present."

"That's true," she laughed, "So…if there's a whole island on a planet full of Hypnotics, why are there four of them in France?"

"They don't live there anymore," his voice became a tad more serious, "the planet was destroyed in the Time War. They must have survived somehow."


	4. Chapter 4

The dining room was rusting and bustling. It seemed like the scene for every occasion, or just the scene for everything. Everyone was sitting around the dimly lit room as usual, at the usual time, and the Étrange family was sitting at the head of the table as usual waiting for their two very unusual guests.

You know who they are.

"Can you stop stepping on my heel?" the Doctor hissed as he and Tristan walked into the dining room.

"Sorry!" She whispered back, "I can't see my legs!"

They walked over to the head of the table and Clive immediately stood up politely, "Please, take a seat, we saved two here for you."

And there were, in fact, two empty chairs on opposite sides of the table. He gently held the back of the chair beside his daughter and swept a hand in the direction.

"Please sit." He said to Tristan, taking her waist.

"Yeah, thanks." She smiled and looked at him.

She looked at him square in the eyes because that's just the way she did things. He immediately hissed, let her go, and looked straight at the ground.

Glancing a look at the Doctor, she sat down.

"So, Doctor," Clive said quietly after he sat down, "we need your help."

* * *

Even in the quiet hum of the room, Tristan still couldn't hear what Clive was saying to the Doctor.

She sighed, _'He'll just tell me later.' _

Constantly stabbing a chicken breast with her fork, her eyes flickered back and forth slowly and awkwardly. She looked across the table at her companion, but couldn't seem to catch his eye due to the intense listening session he was having with Clive.

"Hello," she smiled and turned right to Clive's daughter, "how are you? My name is Tristan."

"Hello," the little girl Emily replied with a tiny smile, "Je m'apelle Emily." And with that, she turned back to her food.

Tristan's eyebrows collided for a second. Pulses of static flew through her ears. Static, no static, static, no static. She closed her eyes and it stopped.

"So, um." She turned back to Emily, "Do you like it in France?"

"Yes," Emily replied, "I spend a lot of time with my family—"

Static.

"—Et ma mère dit les histoires pour moi et mon frère et—"

The static stopped.

"—We listen to her stories in the garden sometimes when it is sunny outside." Emily finished.

"Oh, yes?" Tristan asked, trying to keep the conversation, "what is your favourite story?"

Static.

"L'histoire du grand mauvais loup." Emily answered.

That's when the static took over Tristan's hearing for a good five minutes. She rubbed both of her ears with each hand and closed her eyes. It felt as if the room was spinning, or it was just her that was spinning. The sound was so intense and her eyes were so tight she could almost see static noise against the eyelids as if she changed the channel on the telly to zero. The static and spinning finally paused and when she opened her eyes and looked around, it was as if nobody noticed her odd behavior, like nothing happened and everything was completely as normal as usual. Except for the fact that everyone was speaking French.

That's when she realized the TARDIS was no longer translating for her.

* * *

"You need…my help?" the Doctor asked Clive, "with what?"

"I am pretty sure you know our true identities Doctor." Clive answered calmly, "And I assume you know of our abilities."

All the Doctor did was nod.

It was worth a listen, he thought, because he liked to look like he was interested before turning down an offer. Plus, the curious Time Lord in him had an itch that couldn't be scratched until he found out why he and Tristan needed to be here. Once he found out, they were on their way back to time and space, because there was only one thing that he was sure of was that if you survived the Time War and are stranded, you are a stranded survivor. He was prepared to say "no" to the questions "can you take us back in time to our home planet?" and to "can _you_ go back in time and save our race in the Time War?" Those questions would definitely earn a scoff from him. Not that he took pleasure in being cold or rude, but he felt as if he was the only one in the entire universe who understood how history worked, and that even if you are a Time Lord, you cannot go back in time to save the rest of them. They would be wiped out some other way.

But he did not see this coming.

"We need your help to control the Royal family and take over planet Earth." Clive continued.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor jolted, "what was that?"

"We need the mind of a Time Lord to fix our Brainwave Synthesis Machine, it's broken." Clive said.

"But you're a Hypnotic," the Doctor was clearly confused, "You don't need a Brainwave Synthesis Machine…and you definitely don't need to brainwash the Royal family for that matter."

"Doctor," Clive cleared his throat, "Our home planet was destroyed in the Time War, and I know that yours was too. If we control the Royal family we can control the government, Britain, eventually the world! Then we can rebuild our planet using this one. If you help us, we can split it, how about that? Half of this planet can be a new Gallifrey."

Clive had obviously hit a sore spot. A very soft, sore, bruised, spot on the Time Lord's two hearts.

"No."

"Then…how about we ditch this planet, hop into your time traveling machine, and change the history of the Time War?"

"Listen _Clive_," the Doctor leaned in closer, "there is absolutely _no way_ planet Earth can ever replace your planet or even mine. Don't you think that as a Time Lord I have thought and thought and thought about going back in time and saving Gallifrey from burning in front of my eyes? Don't you think I know the consequences of changing history already? It was my job to fix time. It was my life. But now it's gone and I have learned to deal with it. So my answer is no. You can stop trying to fix your machine, you won't be needing it."

"You must be very lonely Doctor."

"No I'm not," the Doctor argued, "if you haven't noticed, I have Tristan now."

"I fear the day when you will not want her anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

A long time ago, or in this case the future, Tristan was shot out of the womb straight into an all girl orphanage. She never had a mother and she never had a father.

She did, though, have many mother type figures to zip her dresses, buckle her shoes, and braid her hair. She had many mother type figures that had soft hands, soft voices, and soft hair that smiled and laughed and sang bedtime lullabies.

But she had no father or father type figures. No fathers to lift her in the air like she was a flying bird, no fathers to trim her hair at the rim of the sink, and no fathers to take her to the part to swing for hours on end. She had no father to try to be gentle like a mother, and she had no father to peek through the crack in the door at night when she fell asleep. And finally she had no father to pull her on his lap when she had a good long cry.

Even after 20 years, the whole in her heart never found anyone to fill it up.

The only thing that had distracted her from this hole was her ability to take control of any situation that fell into her hands. When she fell, she took herself to the nurse. When someone else made fun of her, she had no problem confronting that person. When a crazy woman from another planet enslaved giants, she cut their ropes and set them free. And when an alien masquerading as a human tried to mold her brainwaves, she had no problem scrambling his brains with the sonic screwdriver.

Now she was in France in the 1800s, lying in a bed that wasn't hers and wearing a dress that she couldn't walk in. All of that stuff never mattered because she was in control. But now the TARDIS had stopped translating for her, making the entire trip and situation the most confusing thing on the planet, or even in space and time. Therefore, she was no longer in control of anything that was could happen to her.

And that scared the living curse words out of her.

"You won't believe what I was just told," The Doctor walked in, closing the door behind him, "These folks want me to- Tristan?"

At the sound of her name and the sound of her native language, she quickly sat up.

"English?" She asked.

"Um…yes?"

"You're speaking English?"

"Yes, I always speak … English. Are you crying?"

"No." She said quickly and defensively.

"Looks like you are."

"Well I'm not."

"So…you were _before_?"

"No."

"Well then, let's get inside the TARDIS."

"Will it let me in?"

His eyebrows connected in an expression of confusion, "Of course it would…why wouldn't it?"

Unfortunately, Tristan was a young female in a state of panic, and since she was a young female in a state of panic, her answer made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"I don't speak French." She replied before grabbing a pillow and digging it into her face.

"Well…I'll leave the door open in case you feel like coming in." His eyes lingered nowhere for a moment, and then they shot up towards the girl with the pillow face.

The corners of his mouth fell when he heard a whimper through the fabric and the feathers. He walked over to the edge of her bed and his hand was raised over her shoulder, but he didn't know whether or not to touch it, so he just let it fall back to his waist.

That's when something inside of him, from a place very deep in his Time Lord brain that he had not used for a very long time, leaped out and controlled everything. That something made his bum plop onto the edge of the bed and gently take the pillow off of Tristan's face. Then that something took his thumb and brushed the tears off her cheeks.

Then that something made him say, "Come here."

Another something inside of Tristan rose from that empty hole and made her scoot over, throw her legs across his lap and her arms around his shoulders.

And those two somethings connected and made her sigh on his chest and made him rest his chin on the top of her head.

* * *

While all of this was going on, Clive Étrange was sitting in his bedroom completely dumbfounded. During dinner, the Brainwave Synthesis Machine that was hidden away in a locked drawer in his wardrobe that began to work. The tiny green lights were solid green, not blinking green, solid green. And in almost any time period of the Earth, solid green means go.

He laughed like a mad scientist, "Darling! Darling wake up!"

There was no response from his wife.

He rolled his eyes, this happened all the time. He got up from his chair and walked over to the bed right beside his wife's ear.

"DARLING, I'VE GOT IT WORKING." He shouted in her ear, "WAKE UP."

Nothing.

"LINDA! I SAID, WAKE –"

He never got a chance to finish because right then, his wife's eyes shot open, and so did her body. Her hard head never stopped moving forward, even when it collided with his and knocked him to the ground. She tossed her legs over the side of the bed and walked by her husband who was squinting and rubbing his forehead, which was now turning a bright shade of red.

She smiled and held the Brainwave Synthesis Machine in her hands, "Excellent."

The two Hypnotics giddily ran out into the hallway with the device. They stood outside one of the large rooms where a group of their guests were sitting around drinking wine.

"Hold on to this," He whispered and shoved the machine into her hands "I'm going to call someone out here."

"Salut!" He greeted everyone at the doorway, "Er, George, J'aimerais parler avec toi pour un petit moment s'il vous plait."

George, whose figure gave away the fact that he enjoyed eating loads of cheese, put down his glass of wine and walked out into the hallway with Clive.

"Oui?" he smiled.

"Good luck to you." Clive said and stepped back, letting his wife point the Brainwave Synthesis Machine straight at George's forehead.

George immediately presented a confused expression, but before he could open his mouth to utter anything, a thin stream of green light was gliding from a tiny hole on the top of the machine right into George's head. After the light was gone, there was no evidence on his head, such as a burn mark, that showed that his brainwaves were now in the hands of another.

George's eyes were wide open, and so was his mouth.

"Close that." Clive said and George's mouth closed.

"Absolutely brilliant!" Linda squealed in excitement.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, calming down, "George, go back inside that room and flash everyone your knickers."

The two Hypnotics snorted, squealed, shed tears, and flailed their limbs as the poor man obeyed them.

* * *

"Feeling better?" the Doctor smiled.

"Much, thanks." Tristan smiled back as she stepped out of the TARDIS in a white t-shirt and black trousers.

"Want to go sneak around now that you can move your legs?"

She did nothing but nod and follow him out.

"So these Étranges right, they want me to fix their Brainwave Synthesis Machine so they can control the royal family and take over the world. How ridiculous right? So I told them fat chance," he informed her as they were strolling down the hallway, "wait, what is that?" he stopped their trek with an arm across her shoulders.

They both popped their heads around the corner and saw the two adult Étranges laughing like school children that pulled down a classmates shorts in gym class.

"Those two are the worst bad guys I've ever seen." She whispered and the two time travelers backed away.


	6. Chapter 6

When the clock struck 4 AM, everyone had already dropped their wine glasses in the sink, ground their cigarettes into the ash trays, and hopped into their beds and by 4:35 AM and two seconds, they were possibly snoring already.

Well except for, of course, the Doctor.

He was lounging in the TARDIS control room staring at its glowing ceiling. Even though he and Tristan had a good laugh at Clive and Linda Étrange giggling like farm animals in the hallway, it could not wipe out the fact that their Brainwave Synthesis Machine was up and running and their plan to brainwash royals in order to take over the world was actually plausible. Closing his eyes, he thought of almost a million ways to stop them and soon all his thoughts just clumped up into one big mess.

He decided to tell himself to shut up.

Unfortunately one of the side effects of telling yourself to shut up if you're the Doctor is that your mind totally wanders off.

Thinking of what Martha might have been doing at that very moment, he smiled and laughed a silent laugh, one of those ones that make your chest bounce and wind fly out your nostrils. He wondered how she was coping at 4 AM because nobody really liked to sleep around him, well now except for Tristan who could probably sleep through Daleks shooting at the TARDIS door.

Then his mind wandered off to blonde bobs and rosy cheeks.

"Ugh!" He sighed and leaned forward to pinch the bridge of his nose.

He instantly went back to the Étranges. He had absolutely no clue how to stop a Brainwave Synthesis Machine let alone destroy it. There was a huge chance that during his usual plan of peaceful, private, negotiation, one of them would point the thing at his brain and mold it right then and there and all of history would be changed. Earth would become a new planet for the Hypnotics.

He shuddered at the thought.

Meanwhile, Tristan was metres away from the ship's door and fast asleep. All her sobbing and complaining had made her exhausted to the point where she fell asleep seconds before her head sank into the pillow.

A strange dream made her slumber a little deeper and she moved her arms under her pillow and turned to the side. She was walking alone in the dark, no TARDIS, no Doctor, no foreign planet or time. It was just Earth as she knew it. She was walking in the shadow of a big bronze building and her pace was slow and her eyes were focused forward. To anyone, her posture was showing complete confidence, but her chest was sinking. Tristan's dream-self was unhappy, very unhappy; unhappy to the point where unhappy was probably not the best word to describe the way she was feeling.

Furious, maybe?

It was quite mixed.

Once she stepped to the end of the building and out of its shadow, the tall streetlights were illuminating the stone ground, revealing the emptiness of the place. So it was dark, and very late at night. She stopped her feet and swinging arms, but her legs were shaking like mad. Her hands slid up her thighs and rested on her pockets: one was empty and one had what felt like a really smooth stick in it. She didn't look down, but she kept her right hand on the stick and felt herself sigh deeply and look up at the sky hopefully.

But what was she hoping for?

Well she wouldn't know. It was only a dream after all.

Letting out a shaky breath, she let her hands fall back down limp at her side and started to walk automatically. She knew exactly where she was going and her body didn't listen to her mind when it objected. She walked so quickly it became a light jog. Her left arm was swinging while her right was clamped onto the front pocket of her trousers. She leaped to a level higher than the ground and felt herself smile as tiny droplets of water sprinkled against her eyelids and the ground fall down slowly.

She didn't have time to wake up at the feeling of heat on her forehead.

* * *

"Yes!" Clive slightly pumped his fist in the air, watching the green glow that was reflecting off his face, "I can't believe he can't hear us! This is completely brilliant!"

He instantly shut up once Linda shot him a glare.

"Well if you keep talking he's going to hear us." She hissed.

"Oh come on Linda," His head tipped to the side, "You think he'll hear me? He probably couldn't feel a fleet of Daleks shooting at those doors, let alone hear _me_."

The two aliens had been having a good time that night since their mind-controlling machine had started working again. They were strolling down the hallways and peering into the rooms of their guests who were quietly sleeping, and they would walk beside their beds and test their new toy.

They didn't have a good reason though, for controlling all these innocent people's actions, they were just testing on them for a good laugh and for practice of course. But they both knew, without saying, that if they were to come across someone who would be of use to them, they would control his or her mind for more than thirty seconds.

Like the Queen maybe?

Yes, the Queen.

Or anyone who got in their way.

And that's when they stopped their fun and created a spontaneous plan that they thought needed an award of some sort after it was finished.

The family of Hypnotics had desperately shot a transmat beam at the one man who they thought would gladly help them control minds of the royal family to create a new planet for a dying race. After all, he knew what it was like to lose in the Time War and be the only one left of his kind and he was probably one of the most brilliant beings in the entire universe so they kind of assumed he would help them and since he wouldn't, they were quite stuck with their broken machine and very upset.

But now, that machine was working, and the Doctor was the only person standing in the way of their plan for total world domination. And their Brainwave Synthesis Machine was working. Since they decided to take out anyone who got in their way, there was only one thing to do:

Get that machine to Tristan.

"All right, I think we're nearly there." She grinned, backing away towards the open doors.

"Wait until it's completely done!" He growled, "Remember, if you're too far away from her, the connection will be broken!"

"Hush up," She barked, "I know what I'm doing, and I think I've used this more than you have."

The beam of light that was just pointed to Tristan's forehead was now being sucked back into the machine. The two Étranges smiled in victory and quietly slipped out the door.

* * *

"Come on, time to wake up," the Doctor said loudly, pushing Tristan's shoulder, "Tristan, wake up."

He leaned in, preparing to shout and potentially spray saliva on her face, but once he took a deep breath in, both of her eyelids opened at great speeds.

"Gah!" He jumped back, "Hurry up now, we haven't got all day. I want to talk to you about creating a plan to stop the Étranges. Come on, into the TARDIS."

His forehead immediately wrinkled when she sat up instantly with one swift motion of her upper body. Her right hand grabbed the left side of the blanket and pulled it away. At the same time, her lower body twisted to the side and she stood up like a robot.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Fine." She replied, unblinking, "TARDIS." She walked to the wardrobe with smooth strides.

"Actually," He practically ran to the TARDIS and stopped her, "I change my mind, let's go eat something, you don't look very well."

Her eyes snapped towards him, "I'm fine," then a smile popped up out of nowhere, "Let's go eat."

"…Yes." He said slowly, taking her elbow and leading her out the door. His eyes trailed from her stiff arm that his hand held up to her eyes that were still wide, "I didn't think your eyes were _that_ dry."

It was the same all morning. He kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye and every time he did, she hadn't moved an inch and her eyes never blinked and they never away from one spot.

"What? Do you see a statue of a weeping angel?" He joked and nudged her.

Her head immediately turned to him and her face was as blank as a white wall. She stared at him for a moment before turning back.

He sighed, did he do something wrong? She _was_ a young female so anything could have bent her out of shape. Maybe he should have stayed with her last night instead of sulking in the TARDIS. After all, she was pretty upset at being lost in translation. He bent over and rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand.

It was like he was an old man trying hard to impress his adolescent daughter.

At the other side of the table, every single member of the alien family was smiling knowingly because their plan had worked out perfectly: getting Tristan meant that the Time Lord would be so pre-occupied with trying to snap her out of her state that he would forget about their awful plan. The royals were coming from Britain soon, and so far; everything was going to be flawless until the end.

"You were right about those Étranges," the Doctor smiled, trying to cheer his companion up, "they are pretty creepy. Perhaps one of the creepiest aliens I've come across. It's quite obvious they like to stare. Ugh, I don't even like humans who like to stare. Look, they're staring right now."

He looked over at the family and then back to her. Nothing.

"Look at me." Clive whispered and the machine bent her brainwaves.

Bad idea.

Her head swung to the side and looked at Clive straight in the eyes. A burning sensation started to flow through his body and his hands felt weak. He dropped the precious machine under the table, breaking the bond, and her forehead dropped onto the surface of the table.

When the machine had broken the connection between it and Tristan, she had gone back to her previous state: slumber.

Luckily, nobody else had noticed.

The Doctors hands were quickly under her forehead and pushing her back up, "I shouldn't have woken you up this morning, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were that tired. "

"Huh?" She moaned and opened her eyes. Her fist gently tapped the wooden surface in front of her and she looked up at him, confused, "Am I in the dining room?"

He nodded, "And now I'm going to take you back to bed."

* * *

"This is completely unnecessary."

"You almost fell asleep walking down the hallway, of course this is necessary."

"Well I've exercised now so I'm awake, put me down."

Right after the little incident in the dining room, the Doctor politely excused the two from the table. He took the drowsy and confused girl by the hand and led her down the hallway. Still half asleep she did, indeed, trip due to "her eyes stinging because of the lights."

He placed her on the seat of the TARDIS control room and she instantly put her feet up on the console just like he did.

"I don't even remember getting out of bed." She yawned.

"Really?" He leaned against the console across from her.

"Maybe I was sleep walking." She joked and wiggled her fingers in the air.

He smiled, and then cleared his throat signaling the transition from nice to serious, "Their machine works."

"Yeah." She whispered.

"And surprisingly," he continued, sitting beside her, "I don't have a plan! Me! Not having a plan! We are what, two? Three days in? And I don't have a plan! Can you believe that? We have like, 48 hours to make a plan!"

"You of all people don't need _that _many hours to make a plan," she at him with a raised eyebrow, "You need like, two seconds. Two seconds and a lot of running down hallways from bad guys. That's when your plans pop up. I mean, we could, I don't know, steal it or something and destroy it."

"The Étranges are probably protecting it like their third child." He exhaled loudly, "We've got to find a way to take it from them when it's…I don't know, a little bit unprotected."

"Well the Queen's coming in a couple of days. So we've got a couple of days to get it," She shrugged, "It's not like they have any use for it right now, but when the royal family comes, they'll be more overprotective don't you think?"

"Well a day does have 24 hours." He grinned slowly.

Nothing more needed to be said before they both jumped off the seat and ran towards the exit.


	7. Chapter 7

"Let me go!" Tristan screamed as the two tiny Étranges held her by the arms and threw her in a closet.

For children, they were unusually strong. But then again, they weren't really human.

"Au revoir." They giggled and the doorknob clicked.

"You'll never get away with this!" She shrieked and pounded on the inside of the closed door.

After giving up shortly, she silently wished she had a sonic screwdriver. The closet was dark and tight, unlike the one in her room. She dropped to her knees and stared at the blank darkness of the door in front of her while her hands scrambled to find something in the environment that could help her out a little bit. The carpet was clean. Finding nothing, she pulled her legs out and crossed them. Both her knees touched the walls and her face fell into her palms. Her eyes closed.

What a stupid idea, she thought. She shouldn't have said anything and maybe her and the Doctor's actions wouldn't have been so spontaneous. Then maybe they wouldn't have ran so fast and been caught so easily. Well, she was running, his long legs were in a power walk.

They had just left the TARDIS and were making their way down the corridor. Everyone was out and about in the gardens or in separate rooms having a nice drink and a nice chat or playing board games. It was the perfect time to go unnoticed. Right before they got to the corner leading up to the Étrange's bedrooms, he grabbed her arm and stopped them both.

"We'll side against the wall beside the door," he whispered, "then I'm going to reach over and grab the doorknob –"

"What? No way!" she cut in, "I'll go first."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" he argued, "If we go together, I'm going first!"

"What if something happens to you?" she sighed and poked his chest, "It's not like I have a sonic to unlock stuff."

He sighed in defeat, "Fine, but if you're taken, you're on your own. My first priority is the machine."

"As it should be," she smiled, "All right so after I go, wait like, a second before following me."

They turned the corner and quietly pressed their backs to the wall and started to slide quickly. They stopped at the door of Clive and Linda's bedroom.

"Well," she whispered, "good luck to you."

All he did was nod before she gripped the doorknob and twisted it. Once she slipped in, exhaled the breath that she wasn't aware she was holding in. The lights were off and she starting walking in a little more. She heard the door click shut behind her so she turned around, thinking it was her companion.

"Doctor?" she whispered.

"Salut!" a tiny voice giggled.

The lights flicked on.

"Oh, piece of –"

The little boy and girl grabbed her by the arms and lead her to a bookshelf. With the pull of a certain book, the whole shelf open inward, revealing a secret tunnel leading to the little Étrange's bedroom.

"I am in so much trouble." She sighed, coming back to reality.

* * *

"Got to hurry, got to hurry." The Doctor chanted, rummaging through piles of clothes and papers on his search for the machine.

He pulled the sonic out of his coat and let it come to life. After pointing it at several locked drawers, he came to the conclusion that the machine was nowhere close.

"I am so sick of that Clemence fellow," Linda's voice boomed through the door, "he keeps trying to grab me."

His head shot up, they were coming. They were coming and he had no way out. He ran his hands through his hair several times looking around and his eyes landed on the walk-in closet. He didn't think for even a second before running in and diving into a bunch of Linda's dresses that were piled on the floor.

'_Messy woman_.' He thought.

"It's a sacrifice," Clive responded to his wife as he opened the bedroom door, "we can kill him later."

"Oh we do, I've seen it."

They both laughed hysterically.

"Now, we've got to go take care of this." He sighed and walked over to the bookshelf.

The Doctor heard a rumble and something closing. They were gone. He quickly climbed out of the sea of fabric and jumped out of the closet. Where had they gone? There wasn't very much time, so he ran through the exit to find out.

* * *

"Bonjour Tristan."

Her eyes squinted, trying to adjust to the light pouring out of the opening. Clive had opened the door.

"Oh, sorry," he said smoothly, "English, right?" Smiling crookedly, he looked at the wall behind her.

She stood up slowly, wincing at the stiffness of her knees, "Get out of my way." she scowled.

He didn't move, "tsk, tsk Tristan. Do I look that untrustworthy?"

"I like to think everyone has a hidden agenda," her arms now holding the doorframe, "I'm sure you can agree."

"If it's regarding you, young lady, I can definitely agree."

Her brave face fell at the look on his: it was like he knew something about her, and his raised eyebrow gave away his intention of using it.

"What do you know?" she whispered, losing all sharpness in her voice.

"I know how extraordinary you are," he whispered back and paused for a long time after. His eyes flickered straight into hers; the burning sensation he felt forced his lips into a line, "but," he said in regular volume and turned away from the door and into the middle of the room, "all in good time." He smiled.

She took one step out, and before she could say a word, he swiftly turned back to her, holding the machine.

"By the way," he said, still smiling, "looking for this?"

She paused knowing that because of any sudden move she made, he would shoot that thing at her. Her eyes flickered back and forth from the machine to his face.

"Don't look so alarmed!" He laughed, mimicking a surprised expression; "I won't use it on you if you don't interfere."

She said nothing, so he took it as his cue to continue, "It's a funny planet, Earth. Our family came for salvation after that stupid Time War. Get this: we get here, and our most important power stopped working! Crazy right? I know!" He answered his own question, "But thank goodness we had one of these." he waved the machine around.

"You –" she licked her dry lips before continuing, "you stole those from 675 years in the future. Why?"

"Smart," he chuckled, "Our race is the only one in the universe who can control minds. Do you think we really wanted it to be something common? Anyways, even before it came out it was named the _most dangerous piece of alien technology in history_ so really, if you think about it, we saved all of history. The thing was, nobody knew how to use it since it was never released to the public, you know, with a manual and all. But then, we saw your TARDIS; which is a very recognizable ship by the way, beautiful thing; so we haul out the ol' transmat beam. We _knew_, we just _knew_ that the Doctor would help us. We thought, hey let's be nice to the Gallifreyan, maybe he isn't as pompous as the race is rumoured to be. I mean, we were in the same situation after the Time War and everything. "

She swore she could hear the sound of outer space flowing through the keyhole interrupting her concentration on Clive.

"Turns out, the guy won't even give us a chance!" He sighed, "We didn't want to be bad, we really didn't. We just wanted to get our plan over with nice and cleanly. Ok, I confess, we did want to be a _little _bad. But who doesn't?"

"So why France?" she asked with more confidence, "If you wanted the Queen you could've just gone to London."

"It was just pretty."

"It kind of sucks that you don't have a planet to go home to." she looked down, suppressing her growing grin.

"Oh how considerate," his eyebrows met, "but we don't need our home planet, darling, we have this one. It's a young child ready to be manipulated."

She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, here comes the twenty first century attitude," he spat, "watch your luck, it's not like your _Doctor _is going to come and rescue you anytime soon."

It was too late, because once he finished his speech, the door burst open and the Doctor stepped through.

"Bold choice of words," the Doctor smiled, "hello again!" he waved at his companion.

"Doctor!" Clive said, genuinely surprised.

"A little advice," the Doctor started, "when you're a villain right, and you're doing your menacing speech, you know the one where you're supposed to stare at your victim and as you're talking you walk in a circle around them but staring at them at the same time? That one, right, you're not really supposed to talk _that_ loudly. It's supposed to be a threatening low voice. I could hear you through the door you twat."

Clive's shoulders slumped as he sighed.

"Now," the Doctor reached out his open palm, "hand it over so we can leave."

"Fat chance _Doctor_," Clive laughed, "I hope you have fast reflexes."

Once he said it, his arm swung high and he pressed the button on the machine, sending a green light shooting towards the Time Lord. But before Tristan could jump, the Doctor's arm had already shot out, sonic in hand, and a blue light shone in a line from its tip. When the green collided with the blue, the two aliens struggled to keep theirs steady and strong. Sparks flew left and right from the area of collision like fireworks in the air.

Tristan took it as a chance to get out. Trying not to think twice, she ran behind the Doctor and to the door.

"No! The girl!" She heard Clive cry and she closed the door behind her.

"Run!" She heard the Doctor cry as well.

But she wasn't a coward, no, she wasn't escaping, she was still in this. Avoiding strange looks from the other guests, she ran the corner and down the hallway back to her room, to the closet, and into the TARDIS.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**: For some reason, no matter how many times I edit this, the spaces between each section of the story won't show up. My apologies to anyone who has trouble reading this chapter for that reason.

The TARDIS door flung open so hard it could've fallen off its hinges as Tristan scrambled up the grated ramp to the main console. The usual soft, calming whine of the machine only annoyed her in her state of panic.

Still, she knew where she was going.

In many cultures, races, and species all over the universe, it is a fact (that doesn't need to be scientifically proven) that when one is in a rush, he or she will trip in a room full of mess. Unfortunately, if said room belongs to the last Time Lord in said universe, he won't have a mum to ask him to clean it up. It is also a fact, that may or may not be scientifically proven, that sounds echo in big and empty spaces.

So, unfortunately, when Tristan screamed from falling face first from tripping in the TARDIS storage closet, there was no echo.

She groaned as she rubbed her nose rapidly, "this is ridiculous."

It wasn't long until she found what she was looking for. This was because it was familiar to her.

"Ah, and they're not even tangled," she smiled as she pulled one of the keys out of the bag.

Tripping again, she ran past the console and made an abrupt stop at the door. Taking a deep breath, she slowly put the string around her neck, leaving the key resting on her quickly beating heart.

"This is it," she breathed, and slowly opened the door.

Walking down the corridor, she looked around at those who couldn't see her. She laughed silently to herself at the thought that she and the Doctor would save all their lives and they wouldn't even know about it. But she was also met with the thought that she preferred it that way. She knew that the thought of being brainwashed and taken over by aliens wouldn't really settle well into many peoples' minds.

Arriving at the door, she stopped for a moment and looked down at the crack at the bottom of the door. The bright lights she left only moments ago were still shining bright in that room. She took a deep breath and gripped the doorknob, but a thought stopped her: if she opened the door, she would attract attention from either the Doctor or Clive and the perception filter would stop working.

She let go and headed in another direction.

"I'll give it to you, Doctor," Clive seethed; sweat liberally rolling down his face, "you put up a good fight."

"It never stops until I say it does," the Doctor replied smoothly, his eyes moving back and forth between the stream of light and the machine in the hands of the Hypnotic, "now, you either give me that machine, or I'm going to have to—"

But the Doctor didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because the stream of light broke and the Brainwave Synthesis Machine flew out of Clive's hand.

"Taste it!" Tristan shouted, pulling the perception filter from around her neck, "I knew my flexible hamstrings were good for something."

Both Clive and the Doctor dove for the machine, but you can guess you got it first. A growl erupted from Clive as he bounced from the empty spot on the floor, to Tristan's neck. A tiny squeal escaped her lips as she shut her eyes out of instinct.

"Whoa, whoa," the Doctor said, holding his hands up as to calm Clive down, "don't do this, Clive."

"I am going to kill you," he hissed between his teeth to the girl, his furious eyes searing into her face.

"Tristan," the Doctor said slowly, "Tristan, listen to me, open your eyes."

So, her eyes flashed open, meeting Clive's. Before he could react, he cried out in pain, shut his eyes and she fell to the ground. She gasped for air on her hands and knees before she looked up at the Hypnotic sprawled on the ground with his hands over his eyes.

"Come on," the Doctor whispered, picking his companion off the floor, "I think that's our cue to leave."

As they stumbled out the door and down the corridor, they heard the faint cries of Clive Étrange.

"You may follow that _Doctor_, but that doesn't mean you won't crash and burn! I've seen it in your eyes, girl! You may be headed towards your highest, but nothing is going to stop the big Bad Wolf from coming for you!"

"I never thanked you," the Time Lord smiled at his lounging companion.

"For what?" she smiled back, moving her foot that was resting on the edge of the console.

"For that brilliant film-sequence entrance, that's what," he took a seat beside her, "worthy of a Time Lord, I'd say."

"Well, I should be thinking _you_ for _your_ brilliant film-sequence entrance. But my secret tunnel entrance was Time _Lady_ worthy, I'll agree with you on that."

The Doctor let out a great laugh and pushed himself of the seat. After pacing a couple of steps, his eyebrows came together.

"Looks like the ol' girl needs some re-charging."

"To Cardiff, then?"

His head whipped in her direction, "I don't remember telling you about that."

He waited for an answer, but the only reaction he got from her was that daydreaming facial expression that spread across her face so many times, and her eyes were focused on the tips of her shoes.

"To Cardiff."


	9. Author's Note and Chameleon Preview

**Chameleon: a Doctor Who Fan Fic**

It would be a really lovely start to this adventure to say that it was a beautiful, sunny, clear blue-skied day in the waterfront area of Cardiff Bay. It would be really lovely to say that by the water there were the calls of sea gulls filling the air and tourists snapping photographs of the Millennium Centre. It would also be very lovely to say that there was never a rift of time and space running through the Bay that caused havoc, death, and the use of millions of retcon pills.

Sadly, it was a very rainy day in Cardiff Bay, the streets were empty, there was still a rift in time and space, and a young Tristan Wolf stepped outside of a time traveling machine without an umbrella.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, quickly moving back inside, "it's pouring out there!"

"No one told you to go outside," the Doctor mumbled as he pulled his glasses off his face, "now go get an umbrella or a coat or something."

Before she could pull a childish face in his direction, there was a loud and frantic knocking on the door. The muffled yelling of an American accent followed the knocking.

"Uh," she stuttered, "shall I get that?"

"Please," the Doctor replied with an all-knowing grin, "actually, no, I'll—"

Too late.

"Captain Jack Harkness, and who are you?"

"Well, well," Tristan smirked, "yum."

**Author's Note**: Thanks again for everyone who read this or favoured this, and to all who stumbled upon this and gave it a chance. I know it has been a long time to wait for the final chapter, and I hope it satisfied you. Like, literally, it's been a year, and I'm terribly sorry. I was actually in my last year of high school while I was writing this fic, so my hands were quite full and school was very much at the top of my list of priorities. I hope you all understand, and I invite you to read the next (and potentially second to last?) story in the series. The next one will have a huge twist in it, so I hope that encourages you all to read it and find out what happens!

Also, if any of you like the BBC Series_ Ashes to Ashes_, I'm going to be writing a fan fic, so look out for that in the near future.


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